Fate and Choices
by fromcoldtofire
Summary: Maureen asks Joanne to help her find out who her soul mate is. AU, High School/teenfic. MoJo.


Maureen sat cross-legged on the floor, her back facing Joanne who was currently lying in Maureen's bed, reading a magazine. Maureen had been quietly working on something for the past five minutes and normally this would worry Joanne but, she welcomed the quiet instead of questioning it.

Suddenly, Maureen whipped around with her ever-present grin, and shoved some sort of folded, paper device into Joanne's face.

"Pick one."

Joanne looked up from the article she was reading and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Pick one."

Joanne lowered the magazine. "Are you serious?"

"You're going to help me find my soul mate. Pick one," Maureen said excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat. She reminded Joanne of a puppy. Maureen nudged the fortune teller a little closer to Joanne's face.

Joanne sat up in an attempt to put some space between herself and the paper contraption she faintly remembered being called a 'cootie catcher'. "Those things are for children Mo."

"Pick one, damnit or I'll pick for you."

Joanne sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Maureen took this opportunity to rest her forearms on Joanne's knees. Joanne jerked at the initial contact but quickly recovered, crossing her arms and looking down at the other girl. "Blue."

"B-L-U-E. Now pick a number."

"You know, we could be spending this time studying like we're suppo-"

Maureen looked up at her and glared. "I swear to God Joanne, if this is some sort of segue-way into the 'You're not living up to your potential' speech, you might as well head downstairs and have tea with my mother. I'm sure you two would have a lot to talk about."

Joanne tilted her face towards the ceiling and sighed once more. "Eight."

"One, two, three, four…," Maureen moved the cootie catcher with her fingers, counting to eight. She stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth when she reached the last number, causing her next words to come out slightly obscured.

"Pig anudah numbah."

Joanne's eyes searched the ceiling as though the number would be written there. She looked down and stated flatly, "Three".

Maureen drew her tongue back into her mouth and slowly pulled back the flap with '3' written on it. She quickly read it, tilting the writing away from Joanne, and folded the flap back down. Maureen looked up, grinning.

"What did it say?"

Maureen stayed silent, her grin growing larger.

Exasperated, Joanne huffed, "Come on, you did _not_ just put me through all of that just to not tell me. It said 'Mark' didn't it?"

Without warning, Maureen began to stand, pressing her palms into Joanne's thighs for leverage. Joanne leaned back as Maureen paused midway, looking her in the eye. Maureen smirked before standing completely up, flattening and folding the cootie catcher, and shoving it into her back pocket. She clapped her hands once, rocking back onto her heels, and looked around the room distractedly.

"Are you hungry? I'm hungry. I'm gonna go look for something to snack on. Be right back!" Maureen swiftly turned and left, leaving a confused Joanne to her thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two bags of popcorn, a left-over piece of birthday cake, and half a bag of marshmallows later, they both lay in Maureen's bed, the lights dimmed, listening to Maureen's Pink Floyd album.

"It would be really awesome if we had some pot right now. Like…_really_ awesome."

Joanne grimaced. "I don't smoke."

"Well, it would be really awesome if _I_ had some pot," Maureen said, rolling her eyes. "I should call Collins." Joanne turned her head slightly to look at Maureen but, the brunette continued to lie motionless, staring up at the ceiling.

Richard Wright's vocals melted into a guitar solo and Maureen leisurely played air guitar for a few moments before bringing her hands down to scratch at her stomach. "Supposedly, if you play this while watching _The Wizard of Oz_, they synchronize or something." Maureen yawned. "That's what Mark told me anyway."

Joanne scooted up onto her elbows, not quite sitting up all of the way. "Speaking of Mark…," she started, "you never did tell me what it said…the fortune teller thingy."

"You know what, I think I will call Collins." Maureen's words were rushed and she clumsily started to rise.

Joanne grabbed at Maureen's arm, latching onto Maureen with her second attempt. The momentum caused the brunette to lose her balance and fall towards Joanne.

Weight and a flash of heat were all that Joanne registered before her brain caught up to what was happening. Maureen was lying on top of Joanne, their chests pressed together. Joanne's head felt clouded but she attempted to ignore the rush of warmth she felt every time Maureen inhaled, inadvertently causing her breasts to press into Joanne even further.

Although Maureen's upper body seemed limp and immobile, her right leg was firmly wedged between Joanne's thighs and her left leg was bent and locked against Joanne's hip.

Joanne stared at Maureen's eyes, which were seemingly trained on Joanne's lips. Finally, Maureen met the other girl's gaze.

Joanne was getting nervous. Maureen's face was expressionless, the only telling sign of her frame of mind being the small gasps of breath she was taking from her slightly ajar mouth.

Joanne finally chose to speak, "What did it s-." Maureen closed the space between them, pressing her lips firmly against the other girl's.

As long as Joanne had known Maureen, Maureen had been affectionate. She was the type of person who would touch you during conversation, grabbing an arm and squeezing it or taking your hand and lightly playing with your fingers. Also to Joanne's pleasure (and disdain), she was the type to give you a peck on the cheek (or in some rare occasions, as Joanne came to learn, on the lips) in greeting or departure.

What they were sharing now, was _not_ one of those friendly kisses.

Maureen broke for air first, looking down at Joanne wide-eyed, her eyes scanning Joanne's face for a reaction. Joanne stared back at Maureen, slipping her hand into Maureen's back pocket, and fishing out the cootie catcher with her fingers. She held it next to her face and smiled triumphantly. Maureen smiled back, snaking her hand out, and pinning Joanne's wrist to the mattress.

Joanne whined, wiggling beneath her, "Tell me what it said Mo."

Maureen brought her face close to Joanne's, her breath hot against Joanne's lips.

"It doesn't matter. I choose you."


End file.
